Swansong
by spectersanatomy
Summary: They didnt know that any of their lasts would be the last.


This is something a little different, but I really enjoyed writing it. This is a little future based one-shot of what could happen if Donna and Thomas (TCM) last.

Please leave honest reviews! It makes my writing better.

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She didn't know that the last time she laughed with him would be the last.

It had seemed so stupid at the time. They had both been at the office for hours, so long that they had decided to both work in his office and order takeout to keep each other company. There was no one else there so it would just be the two of them. He had agreed to order from that crappy Thai place that she liked. He absolutely hated it, but she had always loved it. Their all nighters had always been like that, and she wouldn't have changed a thing. After a few hours they were both exhausted, and Donna was startled by Harvey's exclamation.

"Whooo!"

She had raised her eyebrows and tried to stifle a giggle, looking up at him with questioning eyes and seeing his sparkle.

"What are you doing?" She asked, failing miserably in her attempt to contain her laughter.

"I'm trying to stay awake, I believe it was you who used to do that in the DA's office when we were there all night." He pointed out, raising his eyebrows at her and widening his eyes.

"And I also remember how much you used to judge me for it." She rebutted.

"Come on, do it." He said, egging her on like a little child. This was the Harvey she loved, the Harvey that no one but her saw because he had a reputation to uphold.

"No." She replied, tucking her hair behind her ear and smiling at him coyly.

He hadn't said another word, he had just stared at her until she eventually gave in, letting out a large, energetic "Whooo!" And then bursting out laughing. It was music to his ears. He had never liked the sound of anyone's laugh as much as he had loved her's, it was so full of life and excited.

As soon as she had begun to laugh, he had too. He laughed more quietly though, his mouth growing into a wide smile and his body shaking as he watched her wipe the tears that were starting to leak out to the corners of her eyes.

He didn't know that the last time they drank together would be the last.

He had been dreading their wedding for weeks now. Ever since he had gotten the invitation with his name on it something in him went. He knew she was happy, and he wanted that for her - god, he wanted it more than anything else in the world, well perhaps not more than he wanted her.

Most people had long gone, in fact, it was now just him, a few drunk uncles, and the bride and groom. Of course, Donna's uncle Boris was the most rowdy of the bunch, he always had been. Harvey had always very much enjoyed his company, but after a few too many drinks, he had mistaken Harvey for Donna's husband and forced them to share a dance before disappearing off to do god knows what.

Harvey had now resigned to sitting at the bar, a glass of whisky in front of him.

"Hey stranger." He looked up to see Donna's smiling face. "I've hardly seen you all evening."

He hadn't taken in the time to notice how stunning she looked before. Of course he knew she looked beautiful, there was never any question that that would be the case, but he hadn't before taken her in. Her dress clung to her body in all the right places and her hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders effortlessly. Her lips shone in the little light that was left as she smiled at him.

"Well, you've been busy, getting married and all."

He had tried to sound pleased for her, which he was, but part of him, just a tiny part, had almost made him rise to his feet during the ceremony and tell her he loved her - but he didn't. He had stayed put and watched her smile and blush as they slid the rings onto each other's fingers and kissed.

"You know, I was kinda hoping you would dance with me, now that Boris isn't here to watch! I'm so sorry about that by the way." She laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear and touching him on the shoulder playfully.

After a second though, she stopped and took her hand off, leaving a feeling of cold where it had once been and an uncomfortable weight hanging in the air.

"Why don't we have a drink instead? I think we've both danced enough for one night."

She smiled back and sat down beside him, taking a sip as soon as the drink was slid across the bar to her.

"So, how's married life treating you?" He asked.

"I've been married for all of five hours, Harvey."

He stared at her, expecting more.

"But, if you must know, it's been pretty great." She didn't sound so certain, she didn't know why she said it.

There was another silence as he looked down at his drink, trying to get the disappointed look off of his face.

"Hey, let's not talk about this." She said, noting the nature of his expression.

His hand was on the bar top as he took another sip, and, with almost no hesitation, she reached up to intertwine her own in it.

She didn't know the last time they'd shared a dance would be the last.

It was the night of his wedding, well the morning after. His wife was off dancing with her friends, and Donna's husband and the kids had headed back to their hotel room. She was sat at a table by herself, staring at a glass of champagne and letting her mind drift. He had come over, knowing exactly how she felt, because he had felt the same way at her wedding. It wasn't jealousy, it wasn't rage and it wasn't sadness, it was impossible to describe, but he understood it.

"Come on." He had said, extending out his hand and watching a smile grow on her lips.

They had danced for a good ten minutes, smiling and whispering in each other's ears, just like the old days when they used to be each other's dates to weddings. The only difference tonight was, they would be going back to different hotel rooms. They wouldn't stay up until the early hours of the next day sat on a bed together laughing and joking, they would each be going to their respective families, and then they would see each other again at the office.

"She looks beautiful." Donna said quietly, catching a glimpse of Harvey's bride out of the corner of her eye.

"I know." He replied, almost as though he hadn't been listening, "So do you."

He didn't know the last time she smiled at him through the door would be the last.

It couldn't have been a more normal day - and when he said normal, he meant their new normal, not their old normal. The normal where they hardly saw each other all day. The normal where she spent hours hauled up in her office on the few days she was here in an attempt to finish all her work so she could go and see her kids.

She had another life now. And he wasn't a part of it.

He was busy too. He too had a new life, and it wasn't built around her like he wished it was.

He loved his wife, and he didn't doubt that she loved her husband, but she wasn't Donna. No one would ever be Donna.

Every now and then they did manage to squeeze in some time to see each other, but it usually lasted no longer than a couple of minutes. They were no longer attached at the hip as Mike used to mock them for. A part of Harvey wished he was still there - he had always rooted for them to be together.

She was on her way to the copy room, and she walked past his office. She didn't have to go that way, it was actually quicker to go the other way, but she always walked past his door.

Today, he happened to be staring out of his glass doors when she walked past. He didn't know why his eyes were teary, but when she smiled at him, her eyes lighting up and everything starting to move in slow motion, he had to blink to avoid crying. He was by no means an emotional man, but something about their distance made him feel like someone was tearing away a part of him. It didn't take a genius to see that they had drifted apart, that their conversations were no longer punctuated by sarcasm or laughs, but instead an uncomfortable silence that went on for too long.

A few days later, he saw her letter of resignation on Louis' desk. He hadn't told him because he had assumed Harvey would have known. She was moving away with her husband. Thomas wanted to be closer to his family and they didn't want to keep raising their kids in the city.

He wanted to beg her to stay, to stay with him. He longed that she might change her mind. But she wouldn't.

He didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. Something else always got in the way. Every time he started the walk to her office, he never arrived; be it distractions or the fact that he didn't know how to say goodbye to the one constant in his life, he didn't set foot in that room again. She did leave a note for him, though it didn't seem to be enough. _Nothing would ever be enough._

He tried to call, but she never picked up, and neither did he when she dialled his number.

They eventually hired a new C.O.O. She could never replace Donna though, and that was all Harvey saw when he looked at her - not Donna. Since the day she left, work was no longer something that he looked forward to. He didn't get excited by the thought of the next case he could get, he just went through the motions, waiting until he got home and then going to bed.

His wife was worried. He started having panic attacks again, but he didn't tell her, he didn't tell anyone. He tried to call Donna and tell her but he hung up before she could answer, he couldn't do that to her. He couldn't put her in that position.

She wasn't faring much better at her new job. It didn't feel the same. Sure her job was identical, but her colleagues were no match for her friends back in New York, they were no match for Harvey.

They both wondered if they'd made a mistake, never telling the other how they felt, but it was too late now. Two weddings and three kids later, though, they couldn't go back.

The last time they kissed, though, they knew it would be the last.

It was Christmas Eve, and Harvey had driven down to her's to celebrate. Their kids were out in the garden running and playing in the snow, and Harvey was stood in Donna's kitchen washing up the last of the dishes he had used to help her make dinner. She had gone to the toilet quickly. As he stared out of the window, he watched his son chase after her daughter in the snow. He watched as her gorgeous red hair flew behind her and how smiles erupted on both of their faces. He could see her in her daughter. A part of him began to question what his life would have been like with her, and as her face sprung to mind, her hand appeared next to him, taking the wet dishes off of the draining board and starting to dry them.

It was complete domestic bliss, and as he turned to hand her the last plate, she turned to grab it, leaving their faces, their lips, only inches apart. They would both have been lying if they had said that they had never wondered if they should have ended up together.

He could feel his heart beating faster and faster in his chest, and she could feel the blush coming to her cheeks, the deep crimson contrasting with the snowy white of her jumper.

"You're married." She said as his hand reached out to touch her cheek gently.

"So are you." He responded, maintaining the eye contact between them, staring deeply into her hazel pools and letting himself be completely absorbed by them.

They both moved in closer, until their lips were practically touching, but there was still a tiny pocket of air between them, enough for him to barely whisper her name before they finally made tender contact. It didn't last long. It was hardly a couple of seconds before they pulled apart and he handed her the plate, turning to leave the kitchen and head back to his wife, who was waiting in the room next door with her husband. As she dried the plate, she let out a breath that she had been holding for years, and she finally felt like they were finished.

Ask either of them, they'd say it was nothing. But it wasn't nothing, it was everything, and neither of them had seen it as cheating. It was how they parted and let each other get on with their new lives. It was how they had chosen to sum up the last god knows how many years of knowing each other. And, as Donna began to put away all of the washed up dishes and cutlery, she had opened the drawer and right there, staring up at her, was the can opener.

It was their swansong.


End file.
